Arms of an Angel
by Sad WTF
Summary: Seras loses someone dear, and she starts to have doubts about her existence. Manga Spoilers, some P x S


Arms of an Angel  
By Sad WTF  
---  
  
The scythe had fallen and claimed yet another victim. Seras struggled to see as the very same life-force that dripped from her own eyes seeped from Pip's slowly cooling body. Tears of blood stung her eyes as she looked up, enraged at the image of death above her - the crude scrawls of obscenities written across her body. Joleen's blank eye turned to blindly look at her own, but in the cool stare of the monster lacked the fire that burned in hers.  
  
Seras did not feel more alive than she did now. Even as she felt herself weaken from lack of blood, she felt as if she had found a renewed strength, a strength that caused her to tremble from the sheer power. The more she glanced at the dead Bernadette, the more she felt her heart clench. Was it in fear or in anger? Was it the force of her exertion, or had her heart actually begun to beat?  
  
Clutching blindly at any supportive objects around her, Seras began to approach the grotesque giant looming above.  
  
Eye for an eye. What death would be better than if done to one who deserved it?  
  
But who deserved death? Did the monster feel for another as she had? Had the lives she had taken meant so much as they did to Seras? No. Never. The laughing form above her had nothing. She had no soul, no life, no love, no conscience. But how much more did Seras have?  
  
She could feel. The ability to feel was a part of her long-gone human existence that still remained. What was left of her human instinct trembled at the sight of Joleen.  
  
Cold, cruel, disgusting.  
  
Seras had vowed to never take a life. But was this truly life that stood before her? She fell back. Why did she suddenly feel weak? She was so tired of feeling this way. Her hesitance to act had always been her weakness. Was this what her Master always laughed at her for? Seras felt a sob rise within her throat, and she looked away, ashamed. Burning abhorrence surged in her and all she could see was red.  
  
---  
  
Blood and gore was all that remained, an emptiness brought on by hatred and anger. Was this what she really wanted? She felt no different from when she first realized that Pip would never make it alive. She thought that revenge would make the pain disappear. But what lingered was more agonizing than ever before. Seras swallowed another sob as she crawled towards Pip's body, hoping that by some miracle that death had forgotten to claim him.  
  
Lifeless and still. Pip was a shell of what he was, just like the remains of battle. Would she ever see him again?  
  
With a burning pain in her stomach she realized that he would go to a place that she may never be able to go. Were humans and undead so different? She was human once. Was there really no afterlife for her after this? What if she was doomed to stay this existence forever? Forever tied to the physical world, unable to escape. What was there for her to look forward to in her final death? There would be no Pip to comfort her - his presence had left her, perhaps forever.  
  
Humble, clean, beautiful. She did not know when the light first appeared. A white light and a presence. Was it him? No, it was different.  
  
Was it the spirit, the angel who had come to claim Pip's essence? Seras felt nothing but warmth in its embrace. She felt her tears begin to flow, real tears; she sobbed more than she ever had in her life. All the tears she had held back, when her father died, when her comrades died, when she herself - had died. She cried and cried, and the pain gushed out of her in tears of blood. Blood that washed the white to red, and she closed her eyes, unable to look at it anymore. She grasped at anything for comfort, but she felt the angel slip away.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Was that what she heard him say? Seras looked up, but found nothing. She was beginning to feel cold again, and a chill in her spine was all that remained.  
  
The angel had claimed what the reaper had sowed. The goodness had left her, leaving only regret behind.  
  
Seras was tired of this physical world. All good left in the end, even the small good that she had felt in that short moment. All that left was a hollow in herself. Had he taken her spirit as he had taken Pip's? Or had she never had one to begin with, and she had merely relied on the spirit of others to drive her on?  
  
She felt empty, like the first time she realized she was undead.  
  
---  
  
Seras stared into space, a void in which she had been surrounded by after his death. Her eyes saw nothing as it pained her too much to truly see. Others thought she was heartless, cold, unfeeling. But it was she who felt more than all the others combined. She had no tears left to shed - they had all escaped her that night. She knew she would never be able to cry again like she had then. She knew she would never feel so much pain than that time. She did not listen when others spoke of Pip. No words would ever bring him back. And no words would ever feel the same to her.  
  
What was the point of this funeral she was at? This service was for the living. And she did not belong amongst them. Not anymore.  
  
She trailed away from the others, eyes scanning the hundreds of other tombstones. The blur of words meant something to someone once. What did they mean to her? Nothing. Even the enscription on Pip's own headstone meant nothing. Words were empty and hollow. Just like everything else in the world.  
  
"Are you all right, miss?" asked a voice behind her.  
  
Seras turned and found Walter, arm in a cast, looking concerned. He adjusted his monocle, brow furrowed in a grandfatherly look of worry. The plastered bandages of his forearm were all that was disheveled on the elderly man. His clothes and hair were in perfect order, as always. Seras looked away.  
  
"He's gone, Walter." she said.  
  
Walter said nothing, but she could feel him nod slightly.  
  
"But I feel better than I should, I suppose," she continued, closing her eyes. "He went to a better place. I know he did. I saw an angel, Walter."  
  
Walter again said nothing, and Seras realized how ridiculous it must sound to him.  
  
"At least, that's what I thought," said Seras, looking at him. She was surprised to find understanding in his eyes.  
  
"I know what you mean," said Walter, quietly. "I've seen an angel. Once."  
  
Seras was surprised. "What happened? What did he say?"  
  
"It was a long time ago," he said, eyes looking empty, like she felt. Walter held a pained look for a moment, and he turned away. "He said he was sorry... And I cried."  
  
Walter paused, and then smiled briefly as if he were thinking of some fond memory, but Seras could see the sorrow in his grimace. Walter paused a moment before speaking again.  
  
"There are many angels in this world, if we can find them," he said, thoughtfully. "Perhaps I shall show you mine sometime."  
  
"Your angel? Do you mean yourself?" asked Seras, confused.  
  
Walter laughed. "I am a humble servant, miss. The Angel of Death is no longer with me. But memories do remain, when all else is gone."  
  
Seras looked up. That was true.  
  
She spied a twinkle in Walter's eye as he bowed, and she could almost see him in his younger days. Were there people left to think of the way he was back then? Or was he all that was left to remember?  
  
Perhaps the angel remembered.  
  
Seras finally turned to follow him, smiling.  
  
--- Wow, I didn't think I'd write this – I don't even care much for Pip, let  
alone P x S. El oh el. WTF  
I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Thanks for reading! 


End file.
